The Present Past
by The Nork
Summary: After retrieving a particularly strange artifact for Thor, Loki returns home. But this isn't the Asgard he left, it's one from another time . . . with another Loki waiting for him. This definitely wasn't what Loki expected from an afternoon of casual adventuring.


A/N: A (lengthy) short story I drew up a few months ago and promptly forgot about. Hopefully, you shall enjoy it...also, apologies for the obnoxious "XXX" line breaks. The formatting will not let me double-space anything.

Disclaimer: I do not own Thor, Loki, the characters or the setting portrayed herein. However, I do own the fire-breathing geese. Those are my strange brainchildren.

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Really, this was all Thor's fault.

I knew it was, utterly and completely. If he and his friends hadn't put up such a ruckus when I threw the Drages Tann—that would be Dragon's Tooth in your Midgardian tongue—through a gap in Yggdrasil's trunk, I wouldn't _be_ here, sweating and cursing and burning my way through Muspellheim as quietly as possible. Of course, if any of those complete _oafs_ had paid attention to WHY I hurled the artifact out of Asgard, I wouldn't be here either, since they'd have been at my feet thanking me for my quick thought. The Drages Tann is a sword so sharp it can cut holes in time itself, which would have broken Asgard nearly immediately.

Thor hadn't demanded that I bring the object back. But he had given me that sad look, which I _hated_, because it meant he was disappointed in my actions. And no one had given me time to explain. Thor had hauled his lummox friends off to some tavern, to brag and boast—and inevitably somehow cast shame on me—about the Adventure of the Dragon's Tooth.

Even though he hadn't asked, I was here anyway.

Fire creatures were everywhere. I wasn't precisely sure HOW all the fires burned with nothing to eat, but burn they did. The skies were smoky, the sun glowing orange from behind the veil when it was visible at all. Castles of obsidian rose over the landscape of starkly scorched mountains, with their fire-giant inhabitants glaring out from under ashy brows. I was staying out of their sight, invisible to all. I knew where I'd thrown the Drages Tann—right at a mountain.

I jauntily leaped over a riverbed, dry and empty, heated to the point of becoming glass. A bed of fireweed greeted me, the first green I'd seen here. It grew amongst twisted and blackened trees, dead of a fire long ago. I strolled through a valley inhabited by fire-breathing geese, which were more than a little disturbing. At last, I saw it: the Drages Tann, protruding from the side of a hill. It had left a sizeable crater, and I bounded over a field of pumice boulders—so light I could throw one twice my size easily—to reach it.

The white sword was easily as long as my arm, and _sharp._ I slid it into its special sheath, strapping that to my back. Easy. With a quick snap of my fingers, I teleported back to Asgard.

Carefully, I brushed the ash off myself. It wouldn't do, giving the sword to Thor while covered in ash. He might consider such effrontery acceptable, but I would not. There were standards to be upheld, by Valhalla!

I meandered down the corridors of the palace, casually looking for Thor. As I was passing the doors to the Feast Hall, I heard the laughter of several children. Looking down the hall, I stopped and frowned. There were no children in the palace, not since I'd attained my majority. Then who were they?

Curiosity now piqued, I veiled myself again and slipped into the Feast Hall. Once there, I couldn't believe my eyes.

Thor was there, all right. So were other warriors of Asgard—all now just children! Father and Mother were present as well, Mother smiling benevolently, Father no less so. Algrim, too, was there, talking with—well, talking with _me._ I was all of about fifty years old, which explained why Thor was so short. I used to be the taller one.

Seeing as, when I was young, I was completely antisocial, this must have been my fiftieth birthday. It was the first and last party I allowed my family to throw for me.

I backed out of the room. When I reached the hallway, I leaned heavily on the wall, wishing that I was stupid enough to just beat my head on it in frustration. The Drages Tann could cut holes in time. Clearly, it had, when I'd hurled it through space. So I was back here, when I was a _child_. I had _years_ to go before the sorcerers of Asgard would discover the sort of time magic I would need and record it so that I could use it to get home. I didn't know time magic, had never had a reason to know it. I'd need a record for that…

For hours, I paced the halls, wandering through and wishing I could get home. By now, back in my own time, someone might be wondering where Loki had gone. Of course I'd pitched through a hole in time. _Of course_.

I ended up at the library. Perhaps there was a book, some grimoire in which I could find the magic I needed to get home. Surely there was. It was a desperate hope, but one I clung to just to keep myself sane. If this didn't work, I'd have to go to Mother—or Father—for help.

As I paced down an aisle, now unveiled—who ever came here?—I heard a small gasp from behind me. I turned, and saw myself—small, skinny, but undeniably _me_—staring at me over a stack of books weighing him down.

"Who—who are you?" Little Me demanded shakily. "I warn you, if you are a giant or wicked goblin, I am a skilled sorcerer!"

I suppressed a chuckle. So much bravado, in such a tiny thing. "I'm no giant, nor am I a wicked goblin. My name is…Lodur, and I'm a bit lost."

"Where did you come from?" Little Me came a bit closer, peering over the books.

"A very, very, far-away place. And I need to get home. I need a spell—perhaps, as a skilled sorcerer, you could help me?"

Little Me put down his books and dashed around the shelves. "Over here!" he piped. I followed, shaking my head. How had I _survived_ my childhood, with such impetuosity?

He was already tearing through books. "You start over there," he said, pointing at another shelf. I did as Little Me said. It was, after all, my best chance at getting home.

We'd been looking through the shelves for the better part of an hour before Little Me let out a shout. "Aha! I have it!" He rushed over to me, tugging at my coat.

I stopped what I was doing to crouch beside him. "What have you got?"

Little Me presented an old, cracked-leather tome. It seemed that I ought not be capable of picking it up, so large was it compared to my tiny hands. He was only three feet tall, a little less than half of my height now. "These are all traveling spells. Maybe one of these is what you're looking for!"

"Thank you," I said, surprised at his capability. I had never seen this one before…obviously I had, but I didn't remember it. This time magic was making even my advanced brain hurt. He handed the tome to me, and I dropped down to sit while I looked through it. Obviously, there was no index, so I had to go by hand.

Quickly, Little Me sat down beside me. "Is it hot where you come from, or cold?"

"Hot, I suppose."

"So not like Asgard. Do you come from Muspellheim?" Little Me was terribly excited.

I smiled. Why not humor him? Besides, it was the truth. "Yes, I do."

He gasped, eyes very wide. "Wow! My big brother Thor wants to go there someday, when we're bigger. Then we can fight fire giants!"

"The fire giants are huge," I said. "Tall as a mountain, and they all carry flaming swords and wear armor of obsidian. They're very civilized, but quick to anger."

"I wonder if Thor would fight 'em."

"Oh, if your brother's as fierce as he sounds, he would." I was getting closer to the spell I needed. It would be just a few more pages…I could feel it. My luck had turned.

Little Me grinned impishly and giggled. "I could trick him into fighting them!"

I laughed as well. "You could. You're very smart, did you know that?"

"Really?" He looked suddenly bashful. "My family says that, but I think it's just because they're my family."

"No, they mean it." I set down the book. There were things more important than getting back to my actual time. "Listen, Loki. You're a strong sorcerer, with power and intellect beyond your years. When you grow up, and you're almost a grown-up, people will need your help, and you'll be able to do amazing things to help them. Sometimes, you might get into trouble, but it will end up being worth it because you _are_ very smart and very clever, and your family loves you very much."

Little Me gaped at me, open-mouthed. "How do you know?" he demanded. "What if they're only pretendin' to love me?"

"I know because I have a family like yours, too—a brother, a mother and a father—and they love me very much, and I love them too." My throat hurt a little, and my eyes stung. "I'll do just about anything for my big brother, even though he's an idiot sometimes."

"Mine is too." Little Me was quiet for a minute. Then he looked up at me again. "Are you telling the truth?"

I ruffled his hair. "Yes. I wouldn't lie to you." And that was absolutely true. I'd never lie to myself—especially not to a Me so little.

"Okay," he said. "Have you found the spell yet?"

"I think so," I said, picking the book back up. "Here it is. _A Spell To Transport He Who Utters It To The Location He May Call Home._ It works for all distances and all spaces."

Little Me was scanning it. "We need a rune circle."

"…that's unhelpful."

"Can you draw one?"

"Yes, but I need a good deal of space."

He scowled. "My room's too tiny, and Mother and Father won't be happy if we draw on the great hall."

"Then where—"

Little Me cut me off. "I know! Take the book and follow me!" He was up and running in a moment, and I was hard-pressed to keep up with him.

It took us just a few minutes for Little Me to skid to a halt on the floor in front of a familiar door. My jaw dropped. "Er, Loki, is this a good idea—"

"Trust me!" Loki said, knocking at the door.

A sleepy, tiny Thor—barely bigger than Loki—answered a few moments later. "Yes, brother?" He yawned.

"We need your floor," Little Me said, pushing past Thor. "Come on, Lodur!"

I shrugged apologetically as I entered the room. It was very large. "Oh, yes, this IS enough space!" I said happily.

Little Me pulled a piece of charcoal out of his pocket. "Let's draw!"

Thor sat on his bed, watching us with sleepy eyes as we drew the rune circle. I stepped to the center when we finished, handing Little Me back his charcoal stick. "Thank you, Loki."

"…you're leaving?" he said, rather sadly. Then he changed his tone and put on a smile, grinning cheerfully. "Of course, of course you must get home. I bet your big brother misses you very fiercely."

"Maybe, but maybe not." I knelt down at the edge of the circle. "We had a fight, right before I left. It wasn't…"

"He loves you," Little Me said with certainty. "Even when brothers are stupid and fight, they love each other."

I smiled. "Thank you, Loki."

"You're my friend, right?"

"Yes."

"I'll miss you." Little Me rushed forward and hit me with a forceful hug, burying his head in my shoulder. Stunned for a moment, I put my arms around him in a hug as well.

"Loki, no matter what anyone says—don't ever change," I said quietly. "Keep laughing, and smiling, and loving your brother."

Little Me snuffled a little, pulling back a bit. "Don't change either," he said.

As I stood up, and he backed out of the circle, I said, "Make sure to wipe away the circle. Your parents never need know about this, right? It'll be our secret." I winked.

He winked back.

I spoke the words of the spell, and as the room faded, I heard Little Me say, "Will I ever see you again?"

"Yes!" I called, and as the room vanished, to be replaced with my room in the palace at Asgard—back in my own time—I whispered,

"Just look in the mirror."


End file.
